Another End, Another Beginning

So it's been over two years now since I've had this blog. I honestly never imagined that it would last this long, even though I admit I've been rather lax with it lately. Still, I've never "successfully" kept a journal or diary, at least by my standards. Usually they deteriorate to frivolity and reach the point where even I'm too bored to continue writing in it.

By no means am I implying that this blog was anything other than frivolous. It is. But what I mean is that keeping a journal always became so pointless--for myself. I wrote in it because I felt I had to and because of that my writing lacked purpose.

To be honest, I've thought about closing shop here. I feel myself reaching that point; I've felt it for a while now. In fact, maybe I've always felt it. I wanted to blog about life, but I ended up being a lifeblogger. I wanted to offer smart social commentary, on God knows what, but that hardly happened, if at all.

Admittedly, this isn't the sort of writing I really like to do. My inspiration strikes me in the form of dialogue and images. My imagination comes to life in the form of movies, plays, novels. I like stories and I like to share them. Though I enjoy satiric comedy, I'm not witty enough to write biting remarks on politics and current events.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Part of me feels like I should stop but when I think about it I realize that I don't want to. So I suppose, maybe for a little longer, I'll keep writing. As boring as it is. As mundane as my life is.

It's just difficult when you have an aversion to the things that make up your material. Or simply the fact that some of those things just aren't appropriate for the public sphere.

Ugh, I need a break. Better yet, another start.

And just as a note, Congrats Class of 2009.

Until It's Gone

So I just woke up not too long ago to discover that my house was completely empty. Or I didn't really "discover" it since I knew it would be empty, but I felt that lonely feeling you get when you're surrounded by people one moment and then completely alone the next, if you know what I mean.

My brother left for California today--permanently--and I admit that I'm just realizing this now. Yesterday (my family was at a wedding reception), a relative of mine commented how I must be so sad to not see my brother after today, and in response I laughed and told her that there was a period of eight years (college and then dental school) when I rarely saw my brother anyway and that I was used to it.

Maybe it's because California isn't a simple few hours away or maybe it's because it seems like such a foreign land to me (I've never been there), but honestly, I'm already proving myself wrong right now--I'm definitely not used to it. It upsets me now to know that when he came into my room this morning to say goodbye and I half-assedly sat up and hugged him, it was the last time I would see him for a while. I didn't realize that it was different this time. It was a one-way ticket--he wasn't coming back.

Up until today I really wanted to go to Thailand this winter break, but now the other option of visiting my brother in Cali suddenly became so much more appealing. It's true what they say: You don't realize what you have until it's gone.

Memorial Day

I went to the cemetery today.

It's funny how we don't really understand the losses of others, as much as we want to or claim we do.

All we are capable of understanding is what we ourselves, as individuals, have lost. Individually.

I spoke to her grave.

It's amazing how it still hurts.

By the Sea

A view from the dock.

After a nice dinner at Panera, Loo and I hung out at the harbor for an hour or so. It's a shame this picture can't do the scene justice.

It's times like this when after a bit of traveling, you not only appreciate where you came from, but you finally recognize as well the uniqueness that comes attached with every place on this planet.

This is beauty. This is inspiration. This is my life.

Out with the Old

So I finally finished unpacking today, and let me just start by saying that I HAVE SO MANY CLOTHES. They barely manage to fit in my room! Granted, I haven't really grown in five years meaning it's all been accumulating quite possibly since then (not to mention I have limited closet space and half my drawers are filled with athletic wear... not to make excuses or anything). Still, I could probably (definitely) save a lot of money if I just wore what I already owned. I should cut back anyway before I become a true shopaholic... (Darn my appreciation of good fashion.)

Anyway, I went through all my clothes again and pulled out things that don't fit or that I just don't wear. It was a pretty difficult process. Like I said, I haven't really grown so a lot of things still fit... in order to get rid of stuff I had to keep telling myself how much more someone would appreciate the clothes than I would if I just kept them. It worked for the most part, I think.

But yeah, after I was done I moved onto this little corner of my room where I kept some stuff from the college-search process. I remembered that I saved some of the really fancy books schools sent me or that I picked up, just in case anyone I knew was interested and so I could save the branch of a tree. Of course, now that a year has passed, I knew it would be unlikely for someone to ask for them and decided that now was the time to recycle them.

As I was looking through them though, I realized that I had also saved the letters I received from colleges asking me to apply. It was kind of sad really. I remembered why I had saved them: I knew I would never receive letters from these schools again. But on an even deeper level, I knew that I relished that impression I got from them--I loved that sense of feeling wanted.

They wanted me. The Ivies, MIT, Caltech, Georgetown, UChicago... I devoured their emblems with my eyes, savored seeing my name and address printed on their fancy envelopes. I always wondered why I applied to so many reach schools. I realize now: with all these schools begging for your application, wouldn't you have gotten your hopes up too? Wouldn't you have believed that you actually had half a shot at walking on these centuries-old campuses, at having that dreamed-of opportunity finally in your hands?

I don't know. Realistically, I knew from the start that BU was the only school I applied to that fell into the "good-fit" category of colleges for me, and for financial reasons it was last on my list until the scholarship they offered me cinched the deal. And I'm happy at BU. True, I do tend to make the best of things, but I really do feel like I have this sense of belonging.

Yeah, so I don't know why I'm bringing this up. It seems awfully immature of me. I do wonder though if the subconscious has its own way of working--did I know during the application process and all along that BU was the right school for me? Was it a sign when BU was the only college I applied to from my original list of schools? Was the supplement I sent to BU better than the supplements I sent to other schools?

Psh, okay. That's what I'd like to tell myself. I know I just wasn't good enough. I'm over it. With the exception of the BU letter and the letter I received from Harvey Mudd (it's hilarious), I threw the rest in the recycling bin.

Or really I had my mother do it... and I kept all my UPenn stuff of course.

Relay for Life

The lights went off. We all stood silent on the track. Listening.

We looked around. There were luminaria lit up all around the track, to symbolize the spirits of those who had lost the battle, to show that they were with us. There were also some in the stands that were arranged to spell out the word "HOPE."

A speech. Then more silence.

If a parent of yours had died, they asked you to crack the glowstick you were given and step forward. The sound of glowsticks cracking filled our ears for a few brief seconds. It was like rain hitting the roof when a lone raincloud passes through. It takes you by surprise. Suddenly loud, then suddenly soft. Then silence again. You could see the yellow light emanate from random places in the crowd. Then the lights moved forward.

If a grandparent of yours had died, they asked you to crack your glowstick and step forward. Eyes down, I squeezed mine in both fists and asked Izzy to come with me. She nodded, cracked hers, and followed me forward.

Aunt and uncles. Other family members. Friends. People.

Eventually everyone stepped forward, demonstrating how it has affected all our lives.

Glowsticks in hand, we proceeded to walk around the track. Round and round. The longer we went, the more dispersed we became. We eventually filled the track, creating a halo of light. It undulated gently as people kept moving forward. Individually, the lights floated like fireflies in a meadow in summer.

I grasped mine close to me. Somehow, it suddenly felt like I was carrying something precious.

Eventually, we deposited the glowsticks in four "luminaria" boxes with cutout designs and words. As the light shone through, one could see that they read: Celebrate, Remember, Fight Back, and Hope. I debated for a moment. Then I placed mine in the second box and continued walking.

As I reached the other side of the track, people were still depositing their glowsticks. It was an interesting sight. There was no longer a halo. Instead, like the luminarias perched around the track, each light in each person's hand became a spirit in my eyes. And as the spirits floated and moved forward, they looked as if they were on a journey, our bodies used as vessels invisible in the darkness. Then as the lights finally disappeared, it seemed as if they had all crossed over. I looked down. We had just escorted the souls of the dead.

Eventually, Izzy and I followed others and removed ourselves from the group. I laid there on the campsite in the company of my teammates and looked up at the ceiling. I listened to the music. Then I closed my eyes as the complex slowly lit up and the event resumed.

The Fourth Year

I wish I could have said to you in person what I said to you in prayer.

I still remember.

How History is Made

Obama Takes Oath, and Nation in Crisis Embraces the Moment

It's so inspiring.

What a truly beautiful day.

Reflections

So I'd like to take this time to reflect on this year.

I entered 2008 with college essays trailing off my feet, emerging out of my room mentally battered and delirious. But I was done with applications and that was all that mattered to me. I put my best foot forward for all those mighty colleges to judge, and I could do no more.

As the year started to move, everything started to change. I got increasingly caught up in the election. I watched Hillary take a blow (and blow after blow) and Obama rise to prominence. I was extremely skeptical of Obama, and I was angry.

I continued on with my schoolwork, with my science research, not succumbing to senioritis just yet. After all there was still hope. At the time that is.

But despite my work, my happiness escalated. I was having the time of my life, as were my friends. We went out and did spontaneous things and it was fun and memorable and all of it--I loved it all.

And then disappointment struck... for everyone. Rejections here and there. I found myself in the dismal position of having the last bit of hope I had collapse in my heart. But I convinced myself that I could still be happy, and it seemed plausible at the time.

But there was more. My research came to no fruition, and as if hope was my immune system without it I easily fell ill with senioritis. I wanted to continue on, but I had to drag my mind and body over every finish line, my only energy coming from the prospect of being perfectly happy with my friends after all of it was done.

And when it was done, it was blissful. Everything was carefree and I was very much in love with my life, with my friends, with everything. I had issues at work, and I often found myself furious, but in the end it didn't matter and I didn't care. I was having too good of a time.

Then it ended. Everyone parted ways. But I was excited. I was revitalized. I wanted to take on this new chapter of my life. I wanted to start college.

After all, I had all those fanciful visions of myself. Socializing. Succeeding. Oh, I was to have a wonderful time. But it didn't turn out that way. I found myself alone, lonely, lost. Meanwhile, I heard tales of my friends, now far away, seemingly so happy. And I wondered why I was not the same.

I started to fail. Any sense of belonging in Boston started to fail. The economy also started to fail, and after a long time the election finally took a decisive turn. And I threw my preference towards Obama, towards hope perhaps, but certainly against McCain, or more specifically, against Palin and against the possibility of another backwards presidency.

And in the dark, forced down to my knees, I started to grope for any form of support. I found a few friends, and I was happy with what I had, but there were times when I wondered if loneliness would be better... if only loneliness wasn't what sparked my thoughts in the first place.

So I spent the rest of the year in limbo, swinging dangerously between moods, between thoughts, hanging on only with the hope that my decisions will finally lead me towards a life I can be truly happy with.

And so it ends. I look back at my resolutions and I wonder how to judge myself. Be happy, appreciate, live. I was happy. I did appreciate. I certainly lived.

But I can't say it lasted. And unfortunately, as much as I hate to admit it, I suppose that's how 2008 is going to end for me. Such a shame.

A dismal end to an otherwise memorable and historical year.

Christmas Tidings

So when I came home from Boston to find a real tree in my living room, I almost cried. It was round and full, peppered with red and silver ornaments and strung with lights that continuously blinked throughout the night.

I was so surprised. I don't think I ever had a real tree before. As I child I used to singlehandedly set up a little fake one, and then as I grew older I got lazy and nothing got put up.

But this year... I thought this year might be different. There was snow outside. The tree was pretty. My parents actually liked to plug in the lights at night. There were presents sitting under the tree, creating an iconic image that just seemed right.

But when I woke up today, I walked into the living room and looked out the large windows. The yard was bare. The sun was bright and the snow had completely melted (not that I expected any of it to remain after yesterday's rain, but it was a bit disappointing). Looking away, we then proceeded to open our gifts, but as I tore open the wrapping paper, I wasn't consumed by joy. Suddenly, time seemed slow and sluggish. I looked at my gifts. I liked them, but I didn't feel appreciative. And I didn't feel like anyone else felt appreciative of his or her gifts either.

So just like that, the holiday illusion shattered. And it didn't feel like Christmas anymore.

I did have family over, but only my mother's sister's family came and not my mother's brother's family, and so it was a lot more low-key. It was fun, and the food was good, but there was less excitement than usual and it seemed obvious to me.

After everyone had left, alone I thought back to what ignited this holiday spirit in the first place.

Then I reached behind the tree and unplugged the lights from the wall.

Of All Days

Three papers due today and physics homework due tomorrow.

Two all-nighters in a row.

One overall bad day.

All I wanted was a little peace.

All I wanted was some sleep.

All I wanted... I just didn't want this.

I'm so ungrateful.

OBAMA

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have our next president!

Prioritizing Life

So I've done a lot of thinking these past three or four weeks, more so last week than ever. I considered what my orientation advisor had told me on Monday. He briefed me on what my future would look like, as I asked him to. Then he gave me his opinion on the matter and told me to figure out what was most important to me, whether that be becoming a physics major, becoming premed, going through with the Honors Program, et cetera.

So I thanked him and began to think, and in the process of determining what was important to me, I went back maybe half a year ago or so to when I used to dream excitedly about what I wanted to get out of college in the first place. And I suddenly remembered how much I wanted to do. I wanted to study abroad, relearn French, make lots of friends, and most important, do what I love. And when I looked back to the present, I realized that I didn't and wouldn't have any of that if I kept going the way I was going.

As a premed, I'd have difficulty studying abroad, and I'd have limited time to take extra classes. Also, already, I've already been sacrificing much of my social life to get through physics. As a person to whom math does not come easily anymore, I can only expect that the path would get only worse from here. And I can only study so much before letting every potential friend pass me by, which isn't good for a person who needs friendships and love to feel alive.

And as my advisor explained, just because I enjoy physics doesn't mean I have to major in it. It already isn't a good sign that I'm struggling with calculus. And as a premed, my schedule would only get more hectic... culminating to taking 4 science classes simultaneously both semesters of my junior year. (They hardly recommend that you take more than 2...)

So my choice became obvious. I needed a drastic change, and I needed it now. Physics had to go. I might enjoy it, but I didn't love it, and contrary to how I originally felt, it's not considered quitting. I'd get through the class, exactly because I'm not a quitter, but I'm not going to continue with it because it is a weaknesses, and I can clearly see and admit that.

So part one is done. My affair with physics is over. But now, part two: determining what to do.

I considered forsaking science completely. But I could tell it was an impulsive move. I could tell that I was upset, upset that my first hopes here were crushed, upset that I am now thrown so off track that it seems difficult to salvage those other hopes. After all, I chose physics because I thought that I didn't want to do biology anymore, and I always hated chemistry. Could I really go through with premed like that? After all, I'm failing in a class I'm so willing to get myself through. How would I fare in a chemistry if I'm already so disinterested?

And didn't I want to do what I love? And what is that? What do I love? I love writing, but should I really major in English? Especially when I was never good at the other aspects of it either? But I wasn't good at math, and I was so willing to major in physics... Should I do it? Maybe I should, I thought.

Then I remembered receiving an e-mail earlier in the week about advising with the Associate Director of the Honors Program. Already feeling impulsive, but still hanging on to some logic, I sent her a quick e-mail and my appointment was set for Friday afternoon.

So I saw her. I told her my story. I waited for her to say those words.

"Major in English then" was what I wanted her to say. It would have been so easy. But no, instead...

"Well, I don't think you should give up science so easily."

She could tell I was being impulsive. Was that a good thing? As much as my decision to major in physics was a haphazard one, it was hardly impulsive. It had the most benefits... at least at first.

She told me I could branch out within biology. It wasn't the same as high school. And if I wanted, I could do a minor in English. Either way though, the question came down to how dedicated I was to the premed track.

"Fifty-fifty," I responded. She told me to think about it hard over the weekend. I had to try to change that, even if it's to a sixty-forty or seventy-thirty... I just had to decide which way I was going.

But for now I had a few things decided. She helped me identify calculus as my biggest problem. It was obviously my most stress-inducing class, I don't have confidence in the help I sought out so far (my tutor didn't show on Thursday), and it presents a tremendous threat to my GPA (which consequently threatens my Honors Program status and BU scholarship). In other words, it wasn't worth it, and she recommended I drop it before tomorrow's deadline.

But having that one problem solved erects another. Instead of the other premeds who will have chemistry and calculus under their belts by the end of this semester, I will have only physics, and a very bad grade in it at that. I've put myself behind a semester in math, and I don't even know where my science track is headed. I found a GPA calculator online as well, and I determined that in addition to scoring As in my humanities and writing classes, I must pull off at least a C in physics (the minimum for credit acceptance anyway) in order to maintain the 3.2 GPA I need (just to keep my scholarship, I don't even want to talk about med school).

And I feel so behind. I feel like I messed up my entire premed track already, and I'm doubting my abilities to perform well in classes like chemistry.

And so I wonder... I don't know if I want to be premed. All I know is that I don't want to repeat high school again... I don't want to work so hard and have it come to nothing at the end.

Year 7

It was sunny today. A little cold, but sunny.

Something to Smile About

So today actually played out quite nicely... Perhaps I've been revitalized by yesterday's dinner conversations, but today I actually felt more reassured than I've been feeling lately.

Sure, I overslept this morning, found out to my dismay that I had FatMan's man-salad from yesterday instead of my Thai Chicken Pasta, was overall relatively irresponsible in my duties today, got ratted out about that by the intern-hating secretary, and had a spider drop on me from nowhere as I was lying on my bed reading, but my mind is [rather ironically] at peace.

It's amazing how different a person can feel when he realizes that he's not alone in his thoughts, when he finds out that there's still people on his side that are willing to talk to him and listen. And here I was thinking that no one would understand. But even though they don't completely agree, they do comprehend my situation and acknowledge me for who I am.

I was needy today, I admit. I spent time with the people whom I felt most comfortable with as opposed to trying to get along with the others. But honestly, I don't think it's wrong that I'm choosing whom to be around. I have my reasons, and I'm not alone in my thoughts. Therefore, in a situation like this, I think I'm justified.

Today I took a ride out for lunch for once. I decided I didn't want to stay behind with the others so I went with two of my coworkers whom I get along with well. Together we had an interesting time finding parking and getting to the creperie, where after some time we managed to finally enter and buy three sweet crepes. When we got back, the White Castle eating contest three of my other coworkers were participating in was already underway, all of them already on their eleventh burger. While I'd been suggesting it, I was pleasantly surprised when my two companions actually decided to sit outside, so we sat on the front lawn simply sharing the crepes we bought, chatting, laughing, away from everyone else.

So what if I can't accept them? I've always believed that fate leads people to the right path eventually. An alliance with the others... was perhaps simply never meant to be. But it doesn't matter. I have the alliances I need and care about.

Day

The instructor was pushy. The class was rowdy. The coworkers were talking about inappropriate things again.

I felt disrespected, defensive, awkward, and confused.

Then I was scared.

And I cried... and thanked God that he's alright.

Season's Call

It's hard to believe that more than a year ago, on Thursday, June 21st, I started this blog with my first post, entitled "Season of Goodbyes." That was the day the Class of 2007 graduated, the day my peers and I officially moved on to fill their shoes and became what they were no longer... seniors.

Defying the whirling wind,
I am searching for the lost season.

Today, however, I did not partake in the joy I felt a year ago. It was a different feeling. Actually, I didn't know how I felt. It didn't make sense to me. After all, how I longed for this day to come! The day I could leave behind the wretchedness I put myself through, the immature teenagers, the endless schoolwork, all the unnecessary stress. I never dreaded this day, never feared it. In my heart I always wanted it to come.

Even if it's only a little, it's towards the direction I'm aiming for
that vivid memories provoke me.

But I wasn't happy. I wasn't sad or regretful or anything either, but it was hard to smile. Following the advice of Dr. Seuss, I wasn't sad that it passed, but happy that it happened. And according to my own beliefs, I always felt that there is nothing to regret in the past if I am happy in the present. But somehow, I had smiles to give to others, but none to give to myself.

And it made no sense. I had the whole world in front of me, but somehow, even if I wasn't going to look back, it was if something was telling me that I could, and it was alright if I did.

How many fates should I accept?
Does it have an end?

But that's not what I wanted. I was looking for finality. I wanted the blade of a guillotine to drop down upon these scrawny ties. I wanted to move on, free as a bird, with no one to control me, with no strings attached. But it wasn't like that. Even if I never saw all these people again, however small of a role they've each played, they've all been a part of my life.

That's why I'm not afraid, even tomorrow,
because I always feel you in me.

And somehow, it's not really goodbye, because the only place a person's existence is true is in another person's heart. The bliss I was expecting from leaving everyone behind instead manifested itself as something strange, something different, merely because to erase them from my memories was to destroy a part of my own heart.

You taught me how to love.
I feel like I can do anything.

And perhaps the reason why I'm not sad is because those who mean most to me I know I will definitely see again, and so tonight was not a night of goodbyes after all, but one of well-wishing, optimism and hope.

The world sketched in the dream,
I want to unfold it before your eyes.

And the people I have with me now are the people I'll have with me forever. They'll share with me their futures, and I'll share with them my own.

That's why I'm not afraid, even tomorrow.

Life is destined to repeat itself. Like how Spring leads to Summer, Summer to Autumn, Autumn to Winter, and Winter to Spring... while each season may seem to have an end, in reality, it's a cyclical process that only leads into new beginnings. It's a natural occurrence, and all we can do is look ahead.

My beloved season calls me...

Congratulations, my friends. Congratulations, Class of 2008.

...because I always feel you in me.

(Season's Call - Hyde)

The Most Beautiful Clothes

“The most beautiful clothes that can dress a woman are the arms of the man she loves.” - Yves Saint Laurent

And that must be the most beautiful quote I've ever heard.

Yves Saint Laurent died Sunday from a brain tumor at age 71. Today, France Salutes the Ultimate Couturier.

Ambition

"Nah, I'm only gonna go to Suffolk fo' two years. Then I'm gonna transfer to Queens College 'cause their child psych program is crazy. Then I'm gonna go to grad school to get my Ph.D. in child psychology. Damn, that's a lot of schooling. Ten years of schooling! But ya know what? It'll be worth it in the end. You'll be reading my books one day!"

...Said the girl who ten years ago was possibly my closest friend.

Not to me though. No, she wasn't speaking to me. I was just listening. We don't talk anymore. We haven't since then. Nothing happened. We just never ran into each other. Elementary school passed. Intermediate school passed. And then in middle school, when we started differentiating, I was ushered forward with the select as she remained behind in a place I didn't know or cared for. Now high school. Almost ending. Still nothing. It was books and sports and music and arts for me. Maybe some drugs and drinking for her, but of course I couldn't prove that. That was just an assumption based on appearance and stereotype. Not that I think I'm wrong though.

Still, I smiled, and it was a nice, genuine smile. It was nice hearing "someone like her" say that. It was a nice thought thinking that I was wrong and "these people" actually had hopes to follow, dreams to pursue, that they weren't just going to become drug addicts and booze hounds and pop out babies every couple years. It was nice hearing that someone, anyone, had that fire burning within them, that flame named ambition.

But perhaps the real reason why I smiled was because there's nothing. When I peer inside myself, it's empty. And I can't comprehend it. I'm not filthy rich like some of my peers, but I admit that I've lived a rather privileged existence. While I've been raised to be frugal, I've never had to struggle to pay for something. While I've been honed to be a good student, I've never really studied as hard as some of my classmates do. Most important, I more than not feel happy, healthy, and loved. In other words, I feel like one of the luckiest people in the world, for it seems that I've had few barriers in my life from keeping me from doing what I want to do. But the problem is... what do I want to do?

Perhaps it is human nature to want that which appears impossible to achieve. Growing up in large but poor families, both my parents worked hard to achieve what they have achieved today, a rather wondrous existence I undeservedly had the fortune to take part in. And I wonder, had I grown up with monetary problems, with lesser learning capabilities, with less potential, with less opportunity, whether I too would have that flame burn within me, that desire to achieve and leap from the lowly rung of the social ladder I was born on. But alas, I was lucky enough to be born on a higher rung, not the highest but still closer to the top, although I can't seem to motivate myself to move upward despite everything. Knowing that everything is possible... perhaps takes the appeal out of aiming for that now listless sky.

And sometimes I wonder if it's better to be born without certain things. Because even if I could have everything, without ambition, it means nothing in the end.

Dreams are worthless without the drive.

I'd Rather Have A Life

Elite Korean Schools, Forging Ivy League Skills

As annoying as it is to think that these precious Ivy spots are being taken up by international students who have gone through educational boot camp, I can't be more grateful for the life I have now. That's not to say I'm no longer bitter over the feeling of working so hard and not getting exactly what I wanted in return, but if I may borrow words from Candide, and this isn't blind optimism, perhaps "all is for the best"... really.

I can't read that article without cringing and shaking my head. Where's the happiness? Honestly. To be trained like that is so inhumane. To think that it's okay to sacrifice sleep and health for study is wrong. To think that it's okay to put aside the heart's inclinations is wrong. To think that it's okay to never have a chance to breathe and look back and absorb life experiences is wrong.

But I do believe that all is for the best. I'm college-bound and my hard work has paid off (quite literally actually), as it's the scholarship I earned that is allowing me to attend an institution I love as opposed to the state school that may not be for me. I'll have fun at BU, and you know what? I'm going to have a life.

And that's a lesson they will never learn.